22nd October 2005, on a bus on the way to La Paz. I wonder whether they'll have hot water in Bolivia.

What a trip that was. The area around Cuzco and Agua Caliente is so lush and green it almost doesn't look real. The mountains are completely covered in trees or bushes and slope down to a bubbling river with mirror clear water. The animals look healthier than any others I have ever seen and the hills, valleys and waters of the rivers are glowing. I have never taken acid, but this is what I imagine it must look like on a lovely day in the country. All the colours seem enhanced somehow, the animals seem fatter than anywhere else. The atmosphere is that reddy gold colour that you see on R n B music videos for summer releases. It really is a magical place. No wonder the Incas chose this place for their base. They had very good taste.

We came across this mad market by the rail track. A junk market. Shells of rusted cars, pistons, motor parts, bike parts, basically anything mechanical. It's like nothing you have ever seen. A whole town made of rust and iron. Who is buying this stuff? At the end of it a woman is selling books. She has laid them out between the railway tracks and is chatting to a potential customer. As the train rides through her wares temporarily disappear, but return unscathed as we pull away. Totally mad.

We come across another market. This time on a much smaller scale. The people here are selling locally made crafts and foods in the fields beside the track. The train stops and allows us to get off and browse. I decide I have to buy something. Anything. We buy some mini pan pipes. It even comes with a ‘teach yourself pan pipes’ booklet and music score. I’ve been stung, I know, but who cares. Tim's birthday is approaching and I promise myself I'll learn to play happy birthday on them at the very least.

Puno itself was uneventful. Hustly bustly as most Peruvian towns are, but a bit dull in comparison to Cuzco and Arequipa. Our room was odd. The whole of one side was glass windows - which allowed the freezing cold air in and had see through curtains - which was a little unsettling. A chap had dragged us in from the street telling us that they had hot water - not a luxury you seem to get around here, despite the freezing temperatures at night. It turns out the shower room had one side that was totally glass and looked out onto the street too. To make matters worse (or maybe it was for the best) there was barely any water coming from the hose at all, never mind it being hot. As Tim says - like a small boy pissing down your back. At least piss is bloody warm. Rant over. I wouldn't have minded if the bloke hadn't clearly lied. He was nowhere to be seen when we left to go out -and funnily enough the woman on reception couldn't understand my broken Spanish anymore. Enough. I said rant over. Tim ran out of pants again (what the hell is he doing with them?), so we bought some and headed to Copacobana en route to Isla Del Sol first thing the next morning.